


A Fragment Of Light

by andyouknowitis



Series: Basic Space, Open Air. [1]
Category: Emmerdale
Genre: Canon Compliant, M/M, Robert character study, robron - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-02-07
Updated: 2018-02-07
Packaged: 2019-03-14 20:23:54
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,525
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13597686
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/andyouknowitis/pseuds/andyouknowitis
Summary: But is there a chance,A fragment of light,At the end of the tunnel,A reason to fight?Is there a chance,You may change your mind,Or are we ashes and wine?The day's still ashes and wine,Or are we ashes?-A Fine Frenzy ~ Ashes & Wine.





	A Fragment Of Light

  _'There is a crack in everything. That's how the light gets in.'_

_\- Leonard Cohen._

 

He's fifteen.

Fifteen and full of fury.

Full of words he can't speak.

He's facing a father who won't look him in the eye. A family who won't hear it. Like it never happened. The truth is, it barely did.

He'll remember the leathering longer than anything else. Long after he struggles to remember exactly what that lad looked like. He forgets his face over time. Maybe it doesn't matter. It was probably best. Easier not to.

But the feeling.

The feeling is what he remembers. A boy in his bedroom. A beam of sunlight caught between them. That quiet thrill in the pit of his stomach that he buried away under the weight of all the things he was supposed to be. Instead of the disappointment he was.

*

A year on and he's hardened further.

Nicola will be the first of a pattern for him. Older women who know just what they want from him. And who get exactly what they expect. Even if some of them will claim otherwise.

Alcohol tinged memories that will blur one into another. _Like Sadie, like anyone,_ names he doesn't hold on to. Maybe he bruises some hearts along the way, doesn't know, can't care. His own is never in it. Never gets close.

And Andy thought he couldn't get a girlfriend. It makes him laugh in some fucked up kind of way. The sex is good; sometimes fun, sometimes dark, in a way that makes it easier for him to keep his distance. Always a step apart. A step ahead. Always the shadows. Never the light.

*

Katie is different.

It wasn't love. It never is, but maybe it's closer than he's ever gotten before. A puppy love wrapped up in teenage passions. Almost like a friend. The others barely that. His heart feels used up already; _Donna, Elaine, Debbie_ , none of them will ever really reach him.

All before he's twenty. 

Katie? Katie was there. He wanted her. Loved how she made him feel. To feel something at all. Barely more than kids, playing with the proverbial fire. So much to end up burning.

Mostly it's a mirror. A twisted way to be the son he knew his father wanted. More than just a way to hurt Andy for being what he could never be, it's a way to almost _be_ Andy. Just for a little while. Even when he hates him, _despises_ him, for taking Sarah from them.

Sometimes it's like he can feel the cold sting of rage fighting to be made known, like blisters below the surface of his skin. Contained. But there.

He learns to let it drive him.

And beneath it all there's still somehow a part of him that desperately wishes he could see the same look he sees in Jack's eyes when he looks at Andy, when it's Robert standing in front of him. Not the apprehension that eats through the love like rust, slowly eroding them both.

Just once. But it never happens. Never will again.

So this is the next best thing. Maybe it's messed up. He knows it is, somewhere deep down. But he keeps those feelings pressed below where they belong, put to rest across earth gone dry and hard, laid out on top of the parts of him that strive to be forgotten.

When his father hits him this time he knows he deserves it. Takes the punch he earned. Hurting Victoria like he did. Never meant to. But that didn't matter. Because Robert hurts people.

And that is all they'll remember.

*

The first time (and can there be a first really when you've been doing it a while-he doesn't know), but still, the first time it isn't a woman, he's terrified, and thrilled, and as sober as he is ashamed.

Mostly he's turned on.

Caught up in flashes of lights playing overhead. Music made for it. Bright eyes and empty spaces. Easy, so easy. Quick and gorgeously dirty. And never the same one twice.

He's takes himself places. Always marking out his next move. He doesn't go to those kind of bars. Never needs to. Not in his line of work, wherever he needs to be; festivals that aren't his scene, events that leave his name spoken on new lips, weekends blagged in far flung spots. And in all of them another. There's always someone else out there just like him, chasing that same furtive moment in the dark.

*

Jack Sugden is dead.

And with him goes the idea that Robert could ever return home.

He was never cut out to be the prodigal son anyway. Maybe his heart pangs a touch, at the thought of a little sister growing up so fast, of the things he's missing. But she's better off without him. They all are. They always were.

Andy has Emmerdale and the life that Robert could never live.

Robert's life is on a ladder now. And like that quote he'll read one day and wish he didn't understand, he learns, all too well, that the climb is all there is.

*

Sisters.

He berates himself for being such a cliché sometimes.

_Sisters._

But Christ, it was so easy. Almost too easy. Not them, right pair that they both were. No, easy wasn't a word he'd apply to either of them and what they got from him. In their own way they're each dynamic and challenging in a way that's new. He's not bored, at least not to begin with. That's a change for him, at least.

The ease comes from how easily the doors open once he's in. And if he had to play into what he sees in an old man's eyes to get his own set of keys? Well, that too is easy enough done.

So, he works hard. Plays hard too. In bed and out it. He's good at it. Maybe the only thing he's ever been good at. Pleasing people. Playing them. Most times they come down to the same thing. He's a success. That's all that matters. Can matter.

And he's wanted. He's so fucking wanted. Maybe even needed. And so, so close to finding a way to keep it all for once. Closer to kicking the ladder away and enjoying the view from the top. Looking down is better than looking back, after all.

Any twinge of remorse he ever feels gets heaped onto that mound of earth that is now made of up of dense, almost impenetrable layers. Where nothing can take root, let alone grow.

In his own way he's contrived to get a family of sorts.

Surely, his father would be proud.

*

He'd meant it when he'd said there was nothing left there for him. Believed it.

Not no one. Even if he said as much. Victoria and Diane feel like all he has left of his past. Even Andy, with kids of his own. They've all got lives they've made. And Robert's trying to hold on to his. Such as it is.

If it were up to him, it would have been one of the few times he spoke the truth to anyone who was still listening. He never intended to come back. But Lawrence will have his own way. Blithering fool that he is, interfering, ready to pull the proverbial rug out from under his would be usurper's feet.

So Robert pulls it first.

He's not having it. He's in too deep now. He'll face those ghosts because it's the only way left to him. Just like he knows marriage is the only way to keep those doors (ones he prised open with frozen fingertips) ajar. The logical next step. Just a piece of paper after all. One that will give him the stability he would deny he craves. He's tired of running on empty. He's earned this. A place at the table. Ink on cheques and contracts. What's one more he has to sign to get what he wants?

*

He wants him.

That's his only thought when he sees him first. He tries to ignore the flicker at first because he just doesn't have time for it. And him and that dickhead Ross trying to steal his car don't exactly endear him. He's irritated more than anything. Honestly.

Still.

He's tangled up with him before he even realises exactly why.

_Okay, maybe he knows why._

Doesn't think it's very likely. Times may have changed, here as much as anywhere, but really the odds of this admittedly hot bloke (who's even now stood at the bar, smelling like a hint of engine oil, all mouth, and seeming like he's part of the fabric of the place) being anything but straight seem slim to none. Although, as he knows all too well, straight doesn't necessarily mean not up for it.

That said, it's still a village in the dales. He doesn't think he's that lucky.

There's part of him had already been thinking he needs to escape for a night or two. Maybe a trip down to Manchester. Call it business, as he often does. Sometimes it's both. Suits have that effect on him sometimes. And no he doesn't need his mind going there just now, wondering how certain mechanics would scrub up. Although mechanic's too neat a word for what this one's at, stealing cars and the like. _Grease monkey._ And even his thoughts are rambling now when he thinks of him.

He'll take care of it. Always does, one way or another. It's been a while and this lad has him itchy and wanting. He doesn't want to know why.

_Liar._

Still he can't seem to help himself. Standing a little too close. Pushing for a reaction. Pulling out some banter.

He's gay.

Just comes right out and says it an' all. Just like that. _Just like that._

*

It's all wrong.

It's all wrong. And he's not in control, and he needs to keep his focus. He's so close, so close to being more.

But Aaron. _Aaron._ Aaron is already more and he can't stand it. He knows before he even does it that he won't stop at just a kiss. Any more than he can stop after they have sex that first time.

How could he? After _that._ He wants to believe that he can. That it all has an expiration date. Says as much.

And it's the biggest lie he's ever told.

Robert Sugden; accomplished liar, sometime philanderer, erstwhile fiance, who thrills in his ability to remain detached to get what he wants, is seeing something he never thought he could again.

A fragment of light.

It's not because he's a man. He's had men before. It's because he's Aaron.

That fragment is lighting up all his dark corners, shining a cold, hard beam on the ugliest parts of him, scaring him, because there's no place left to hide.

The earth is dry as dust. Not weeds, or brambles. Just dust.

*

For a moment, for a heartbeat, for the fifteen year old boy he once was, he lets himself live in that fragment.

Just a moment. One that he tries to stretch out into something he can't bring himself to call home.

Fighting the destructive voice that tells him it will never be right. That he will never be right. That he can't have _this._

_People don't forgive me._

He's right. He can't have any of it.

A fool to think he ever could. Hope becomes one more thing to turn to ashes, to be buried far away from where the light can ever reach.

*

He dreams.

He's back in that bedroom. He can practically smell the farm.

He can't even think the word. _Boyfriend._

He liked him. He _liked_ him.

He's never really let himself think about that until now.

He was fifteen _. Fifteen._ He'd never had a girlfriend. Although he liked them just fine. Girls. But not this time. Not this time.

He remembers. For the first time in so long he remembers.

The sunlight that had shuttered through his bedroom window and played upon the eyes and hair of this boy. He had felt the light go on inside of him.

This boy that he's been sharing glances with for weeks. Shy smiles. Words that turn into hopes.

He likes him.

And this boy. This boy _likes him back._

It's a kiss. All it is. All it ever gets a chance to be. Hands beneath a worn out t-shirt, overalls drawn tight at his waist. Just a kiss. But he's lost in it, caught in the light of a late afternoon, this feeling in his chest unheeding of the risk. Because he's fallen asleep thinking of this one too many nights. Daydreams even, that have had his Dad ready to clip him round the ear for not doing enough around the farm. But he sees him in everything. Every book he reads, he thinks of him as the hero. _Soft lad,_ he thinks. Maybe he is. Maybe he is for this boy.

And then it's done.

The marks on his skin fade, but the ones on his mind last far longer, these cuts deeper than he could ever speak of, left untended, until they fester, twisted up into ugly scabs that scar the man he would become.

He loves his Dad.

Loves him enough that he lets go of that kind of love. Of any kind.

Until the day he walked back into this village and met a lad who made him feel fifteen again.

It's Aaron he dreams of now. Aaron and that fragment of light that is Robert's ability to love.

*

Every day like the one before it.

He ignores the jagged spill of his would be emotions. Tries to pull those ruthless strands of himself back together. To be callous and cold once more, walking within the endless winter that is his life.

He tries to be the furthest version of himself. The one that is far, far away from the boy in the bedroom. From the light caught dully on the ring he can't yet bear to untether from his skin.

He tries.

*

_Friends._

He tells himself it's the only way. The only way to let go of that fragment of light.

It was that fragment that brought him back. The fragment caught in Aaron's voice.

_I'm not ready to lose you._

He's so afraid now. So afraid that fragments can cut all too deep. He can't be the one to hold onto it any longer. To keep using it to hurt Aaron, even if it hurts himself to grip it and pull it free.

Best friends.

And yet the light lives on in the ring he finally unmarries from his finger. In the suggestions he gives another man for gifts that were once his to give. In the act of getting up every day and facing his responsibilities, when all he wants to do is lose himself and run away from the ache that sometimes feels like it's all that is left of who he once was.

The light lives.

And he, Robert Jacob Sugden, exists.

*

**Author's Note:**

> I blame Danny Miller for...whatever this is. 
> 
> Because the moment he made the 'light at the end of a tunnel' comment about the Robron reunion [this song](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=s4m-j2o7yUk) came tripping back into my head from my angsty uni days. I had me a proper listen for the first time in an age and lo and behold it was A WORLD OF NO.
> 
> One line reached out to me and haunted me, in much the same way as Robert Sugden of days gone by does.
> 
> So here are words. I hope they are not altogether awful.  
> x


End file.
